


a thousand miles (mend what is broken)

by chatona



Series: spain 'verse [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatona/pseuds/chatona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I want you to come home, Tony.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thousand miles (mend what is broken)

**Author's Note:**

> Goes AU after 4.03

The flight attendant looked like she could have stepped out of an advertisement or a cheap skin flick, Tony thought. She bent over as she refilled his cocktail, putting her cleavage on display.

Tony saw it play out before his inner eye: A playful leer and a waggle of his eyebrows and she'd follow him to the toilets, they'd join the mile high club with her legs clenched tight around his waist, her skirt pushed up; he'd leave the plane with a new phone number in his pocket and no intention of ever calling.

He pushed the mental image away, the memory of Gibbs pressing into him still strong, and thanked her politely; searching instead for the crossword in the magazine he'd bought at the airport.

The pilot announced that the flight conditions were perfect and they had another six hours to go before they'd reach Madrid's airport, food would be served in thirty minutes and he hoped everyone was having a pleasant flight so far.

Tony ignored him, sinking further down in his chair and studying the crossword. Seven across read _Where you live at a particular time, an environment offering affection and security._ Four letters. Home.

Tony snorted, feeling his mouth twist, and decided it was probably safer to just listen to music until he could go to sleep.

He drifted in and out of sleep, the lights of the plane dimmed and only whispers and shushed voices to be heard. The nervous and painful flutter in his chest settled down until all he felt was the lack of proper rest, numbness and lethargy setting in.

During the landing, he busied himself with his watch, changing the date and time. The first thing he'd do, Tony decided, was to find the restrooms and brush his teeth and then he'd get a large cup of coffee. He'd gotten used to it over the weeks of leading the team.

He smoothed down his button-down shirt - no more polo shirts for him, they reminded him too much of Gibbs and, as everyone had always been so quick to remind him, Tony wasn't Gibbs. He didn't have any luggage except for a small suitcase that he'd been able to bring as a carry on. Until he'd found a house and had the movers bring his things, he'd live in a hotel.

Free as a bird, he thought. It brought a smile to his face, but it was bittersweet. This was different from all the times he'd just packed up and left his job for another one in another town. In Peoria and Philadelphia and Baltimore nothing had ever held him back.

Tony pushed the memory of Gibbs and Abby, of Ziva, Ducky and McGee, even of Kate far away. In his years with NCIS, he'd almost forgotten how to let go. He'd put down roots and now he'd had to leave that behind.

Tony shook his head. He wasn't meant to stay in one place for long. This time, he'd remember that.

\---

The red Ferrari Tony had rented hummed smoothly and Tony slipped his sunglasses on, pressing down harder on the gas.

The car accelerated, the needle climbing up to 140 km/h and Tony turned the music up louder, trying to clear his head.

He'd be all right. He always had been.

\---

Thanks to the navigation system, Tony could just drive. 670 kilometres from Madrid to Rota. He planned on beating the seven hours that Google maps had predicted as driving time.

Tony stopped at the third motorway service area he came across for new coffee and a large bottle of water, two sandwiches and a chocolate bar. He ate the sandwiches immediately, leaving the water and the chocolate bar on the passenger seat for later.

It was just past eleven in the morning and the sun was shining brightly, the sky bright blue. His body said it was time to go to sleep.

Tony drove faster, like he could outrun the tiredness and all the other things weighting him down, if only he was fast enough.

\---

He left Abby a voice mail. "I got to Spain all right. The sun's shining. Later, Abs."

\---

The hotel he'd booked was situated right on the beach, a chain of small, white houses in the Andalusian style, with red flowers and palm trees and the smell of the sea in the air.

Tony liked the name. Hotel Playa de la Luz. Beach of light.

He slipped into Spanish easily enough, flirting half-heartedly with the girl at the reception and since NCIS was paying for the rooms, he'd gotten a Junior Suite; bedroom and a separate sitting room. It was almost a small apartment.

Tony found a basket of fresh fruits on one of the beds, grabbed an apple and moved to stand on the terrace. It was windy, Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He still knew how to breathe, he'd just needed to let himself remember.

He could see the beach and the sea; young women in bikinis and families with loud children, a few surfers and a sailing boat in the distance. The sun felt hot on his face.

Tony shook himself and went for dinner.

\---

That night, Tony slept for eleven hours. He hadn't slept that long since he'd had the Plague.

\---

In the restaurant, Tony almost felt out of place in his slacks and dress shirt. He ate alone, outside, his sunglasses shielding him from everyone else.

He'd checked the route from the hotel to the NCIS field office - five point three kilometres. He took the rental car and made a detour to buy donuts. It never hurt to carry a sugary sweet bribe.

His team was waiting for him.

It was weird to think of them as 'his team'. His team was led by Gibbs and consisted of Ziva and McGee and him. He would have to change his way of thinking; he'd get used to it quickly enough, he told himself sternly.

His new team was waiting for him. A small woman with stocky build, bright red hair and freckles splattered over her nose and her arms and a tall and lanky man who made her seem tiny in comparison half behind her. She was dressed similarly to Tony, in slacks and a blouse. The guy was wearing leather pants, a band t-shirt of the Ramones and he had his hair in dreadlocks.

If Tony hadn't seen their files already, he would have thought the guy was a witness.

"I'm Amanda Harris, your Senior Agent," the woman introduced herself, holding out her hand. Her handshake was firm and she held his gaze steadily.

"Josh Delaney," the guy said, hips canted and his eyes dark and guarded. He didn't offer his hand. Tony found it hard to believe Josh had lasted three years with the FBI.

"Anthony DiNozzo," Tony said with a smile, though they must have known that already. He offered both of them the box with the donuts. Amanda took one with chocolate frosting, Josh chose vanilla with sprinkles.

"We're going to take turns. Amanda? Tomorrow, it'll be your turn to bring breakfast."

Tony took a large bite of his own donut, waving a hand around vaguely. "So," he said when he'd finished chewing, "Bring me up to speed."

They did.

\---

From: a.dinozzo@gmail.com  
To: bowling_with_nuns@gmail.com  
Subject: phone number

Abs,

Spain is nice. The weather is pretty awesome and my hotel is right on the beach. I got a new phone number- obviously, it'd be nonsense to keep the American one. If you need to, you can reach me at +34 607 550 48 61.

You'd like Josh. One of my new agents. He dresses in leather. Bet he has a tattoo or two (I still don't see the appeal of them on men!).

How's things in DC?

Take care,  
Tony

\---

Tony called Jeanne from a paid phone just outside his hotel. The reception was bad and he knew he should have called her sooner. Now, with more than three thousand miles between them, it felt safe enough.

"I'm sorry," he said and "I accepted a position in Spain" and "I should have told you sooner" and again, "I'm sorry."

Jeanne screamed at him and cried, little hiccupping sounds over the phone line.

Tony told her goodbye and that he was sorry ( _again_ ) and hung up on her. He felt drained afterwards. She would probably hate him, he thought, but that was okay. She'd only hate Anthony DiNardo and he'd never been more than a lie, anyway.

Tony wanted to believe that, badly.

\---

That night, lying naked on his bed with the door to the balcony open and salty air brushing over his body, Tony jerked off to the rhythm of the waves hitting the shore.

He tried not to think of Gibbs. It didn't work.

\---

Tony got a call from the Secretary of the Navy, Paul Thompson. "You've taken on a great responsibility, representing NCIS in a different country, on a different continent. Do your best."

Tony appreciated that Thompson cut the call short. He didn't want to hear about his responsibility.

\---

On his second day as team leader of the Rota Field Office's Major Crime Response Team, his team was complete-- Patricia Turner ("Call me Trish") was a pretty brunette with long legs and thin, wire-rimmed glasses who had asked for a transfer to Rota.

She could probably give McGee a run for his money, Tony caught himself thinking, and wondered why she'd requested the transfer.

They caught their first case that day. It was weird to hear his own voice say "Grab your gear." Tony filled in his agents on the way to the military on base hospital.

"Lance Corporal Thomas Higging, brought in unconscious last night with raised levels of MDMA in his bloodstream."

"Ecstasy," Josh said immediately.

In the rear view mirror, Tony beamed at him. "Bingo! Now we'll just have to figure out where he got the drug and arrest the person providing our good Marine with E and we'll be done."

Tony took a large bite of one of the donuts Amanda had brought for breakfast.

"Oh, and Josh? Tomorrow, you're on breakfast duty. And it doesn't have to be donuts."

Tony caught the look Amanda and Josh were sharing. It said "our new boss is clearly insane." He found himself agreeing silently.

\---

The case turned out to be fairly straight forward: Higging told them how one of his buddies, Steve Summers, had told him to try one of the little pills and Higging, being curious, had given in easily.

They picked up Summers who was sleeping off his hang-over ("What the hell do you want, man, I've got the day off!") and brought him in for questioning.

Tony let Amanda do the interrogation, observing her technique. It was painfully similar to Gibbs' and it should have been funny, coming from a woman as tiny as her, but somehow, she was able to pull it off.

Summers admitted to having smuggled the drugs from the US to Spain, Tony filed a report and sent it off to the person responsible for handling it.

He told his team they'd done a good job. He'd always hated the way Gibbs had withheld any and all praise-- he was going to do things differently.

\---

That weekend, Tony started looking for apartments. He found a few that he liked, close to the beach and the Army Base, with a couple of local bars within walking distance. He declined all the offers, saying he'd have to think about it for a bit longer.

He knew it was stupid. He should take the apartment while it was still available, but he couldn't do it. An apartment would make things too real. An apartment meant roots. It meant he'd stay in Spain.

Tony wasn't ready to tie himself down again.

\---

Monday morning at five, Abby called. Her voice slurred in ways that had nothing to do with the phone line. Tony rubbed a hand over his face and didn't say anything about different time zones. He felt sleepy, fuzzy.

"I--i miss you, Tony. We miss you."

Tony swallowed down the sudden taste of bile in his mouth. "I miss you, too, Abs." He was surprised at how even his voice sounded.

"'s not the same without you, 's just not. I miss you. Gibbs is all grumpy 'n bitchy without you and there's no one to make any jokes or movie references and I think McGee's takin' brain damage from all the head slaps and Agent Lee is just jumpy as hell, and-- can't you come back, Tony?"

For the longest time, Tony didn't say a word, the only noise between them was the loud music coming through the line.

"I can't." Tony hung up on her.

\---

He didn't go back to sleep that night.

\---

Tony started running every morning. It was a habit he'd taken up during his time in college, once he'd found he liked running track for training. It woke him up better than a cup of coffee and he found that after a while, he started craving the regular exercise. There was a reason he'd chosen phys. ed. as his major and participated in both the basketball and the football team.

He ran every morning, following the boardwalk along the beach, the fresh and salty air still cool against his face that early.

Running here was more pleasant than in DC. That, at least, Tony could admit to himself.

\---

From: bowling_with_nuns@gmail.com  
To: a.dinozzo@gmail.com  
Subject: (no subject)

Tony, Tony, things have been crazy! And by that, I mean, like, totally crazy. McGee's sister murdered someone and then she didn't and in the end it turned out she was innocent and it was all totally fucked up.

And before that? There was a suicide that wasn't a suicide that led us to a sex ring. And Agent Lee had to go undercover!

So that's why I didn't e-mail you earlier. Busy with work. Same shit, different day. How have you been? How's Spain? How's your new _team_? I bet the forensic scientist they have in Rota isn't nearly as good as me. No one's as good as me.

Write back! Threatening you with bodily harm might seem useless, but I know your phone number and I can track you!

\- Abby

PS: … I'm sorry about that call the other night. But it's still true. I **do** miss you!

\---

From: a.dinozzo@gmail.com  
To: bowling_with_nuns@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: (no subject)

Abs,

We didn't just lie around doing nothing either. Busted a drug smuggler, solved two murders (one committed by a civilian, the other by a Marine who was jealous his buddy got promoted), and figured out a cold case.

Spain's nice and the weather is pretty damn amazing. One of these weekends, I'll try surfing. Did it once or twice in college and it was awesome. Weather here? Great for surfing!

I like the new team. They're good people. And we have breakfast together every morning and campfires. My idea. They don't hate it. We get along fine.

Of course, no one in forensics is as good as you. We get by, though.

See? I wrote back.  
\- Tony.

\---

It took three weeks in Rota before Tony and Josh crossed paths during their morning runs. It was awkward at first, Tony was still trying to fit into the role of the boss and Josh didn't seem comfortable with said boss seeing him in shorts and a ratty t-shirt (damn, Josh had long legs!).

After a minute of inane smalltalk, they discovered they'd both chosen the same route for their morning run.

"Want company?" Tony finally asked. Josh nodded, a small grin appearing on his face that Tony hadn't seen there often before.

They agreed to meet up the next morning to run together and finished the route together in companionable silence.

\---

Tony developed a routine.

It was inevitable, really. He had to get up every morning at seven to meet up with Josh for their morning run, before they had to be at work around nine. Tony was always early. He was the boss, after all.

Work hours were supposed to be from nine to five, but murderer and crime suspects rarely adhered to the working hours of law enforcers (something Tony had learned very quickly in Peoria), so they had a few late and very early calls.

In the evenings, Tony watched TV (to get more of a feel for the Spanish language) or DVDs. He found a little bar he liked, near the beach and within walking distance of the hotel. They served good beer, the bartender was nice and the women weren't opposed to dancing with him.

Some evenings, Tony looked at apartments, but he still couldn't bring himself to buy one.

He felt more settled than he had in a long time, though. As if the sea wind had blown away some of the things weighting him down in DC, things seemed easier.

Maybe it was the distance.

\---

After they'd put their fifth murderer behind bars, Tony took his team out for a drink. By then, he knew the bartender by name (Juanez, but everyone just called him Jay) and a few of the regulars in the bar waved at him when they entered.

They sat down at a table in the back of the bar, all of them except for Amanda ordering beer.

"Someone's got to stay sober in case we get a call-- besides, I always get hung-over and I'd rather enjoy my weekend," she explained.

The lack of alcohol filling up her glass certainly didn't stop her from joining in when they started sharing stories about their former work places. Tony concentrated on Peoria, Philadelphia and Baltimore. He couldn't speak about his time in DC yet, and his team didn't ask.

Trish couldn't hold her liquor (they'd started doing shots around midnight) and was giggling and swatting Tony every time he teased her about it. He ended up walking her home and for a moment, he thought about coming up to her apartment, pressing her up against a wall and pushing himself deep into her. _Never date a co-worker_ wasn't one of his rules, but it was still good advice, Tony thought and remembered the way Gibbs and he had turned out. Though, technically, they hadn't been dating…

The memory of Gibbs hurt enough to cut through the haze of alcohol and laughter of the evening and Tony sent Trish off with a smile and a "good night".

On the way back, her giggled response echoed through his head. _"You're a good boss, Tony."_ He liked the sound of it.

\---

Tony couldn't forget the way Gibbs had smelled, tasted, felt. Some nights, the memories were so strong that Gibbs seemed to be in the room with him, pressing him down into the soft sheets, stubble rubbing against Tony's cheek or neck or collarbone, blunt fingers rubbing against Tony's prostate.

On those nights, Tony would turn his head and press his nose into the pillow, imagining sawdust instead of the stench of laundry detergent.

Tony couldn't forget the pain either. He couldn't forget the fear that had filled him at seeing Gibbs in that hospital bed, broken and frail, nor the pain of Gibbs forgetting the team (Tony), leaving the team (him).

It became easier, though. Easier to see that he'd deserved more than a "You'll do". Easier to see that he'd deserved more than to have all his things dumped back on his old desk without so much a word of thanks for leading the team, without any recognition at all.

Tony couldn't let go, but it became easier to see that it hadn't been his fault.

\---

Five weeks after he'd arrived in Rota, Tony bought an apartment.

\---

The team helped him move in. There wasn't really all that much to do though, Tony had called the movers and they'd taken his things out of storage and into the new apartment. He and the team mainly stood by watching the men carry his furniture and box after box up the stairs.

Josh helped move the furniture and Amanda directed, "A little more to the left. If you put the couch there and the table there, you'll have a nice niche for living and you can see both the TV - which we're going to put up right here, by the way - and the beach from here."

Tony nodded along with what she said. He liked her ideas and she had a better sense of interior decorating than he would ever develop.

When they were done, they ordered pizza and settled on the couch. Trish drew her legs up under her body, Amanda put her feet up on the table and Josh grabbed beer from the fridge. Tony found himself thinking that they behaved as though it was their home as much as his.

He liked that idea.

\---

Once they were gone, he discovered that Trish had sorted all his DVDs alphabetically, there was a flower on his window sill that probably came from Amanda and a bottle of whiskey in his kitchen that was all Josh.

He smiled, mouthing the words _my team_ to himself, and went to bed.

\---

The woman was sobbing into her husband's chest and he'd placed one arm around her shoulders, his own face frozen and unmoving.

"Last we saw of our daughter was when my wife brought Julia to school this morning. When she went to pick Julia up, we heard that she had never reached her class room."

Tony nodded for the man to continue. Kidnappings were always a race against time, which was bad enough - this one involved a seven year old girl.

"I found this pinned to our door when I came back," the woman said, her words interrupted by hiccups and sniffles. Tony took the envelope after putting on gloves. The letter inside started:

 _Marine,_

 _If you want to see your daughter again_ , -- Tony didn't bother with the rest. "We'll do our best to find your daughter," he promised.

There was a picture of Julia on one of the shelves. A chubby child with dark, curly hair and a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

Tony hated the case already.

\---

It took them almost a week to nail down the person who'd kidnapped Julia. An older woman, whose son had died in a training mission gone wrong under Clarke's command, taking revenge. She cackled manically when they brought her in, saying she'd "fed the girl to the wolves".

It took them another three days to find out what she meant by that: A semi-organised group of criminals and drug addicts, thugs that terrorised the neighbourhoods just outside of the city.

They arrested some of them and had to let more go because of the lack of evidence.

During the arrest, it came to a firefight. Trish took a bullet in the arm. Tony couldn't remember ever being so angry, cold fury rushing through his veins.

Those bastards had _hurt one of his people_. That thought should have given him pause, but it got lost in the haze of processing, sending Amanda to accompany Trish to the hospital, phone calls and arguments with the local LEOs.

\---

They found the body of the girl in the abandoned warehouse that the gang used as their meeting point.

"Oh, fuck," Josh breathed and Amanda looked decidedly green. Tony had to swallow down bile as well. He was glad Trish was still in hospital. She was too nice a girl to see this.

The ground around the girl's corpse was covered in dried blood and semen. She was naked, bruised, broken and mutilated.

Tony licked his too dry lips, forcing himself to take his eyes off the body. "Josh, sketches and measurements. Amanda, tag the evidence." His orders broke the spell.

\---

Tony didn't want to go to sleep. He kept seeing the girl's body whenever he closed his eyes.

He was used to seeing some pretty bad shit, but, every once in a while, a case just got unbearable. This was one of them. He couldn't forget the expression on the parents' faces when he'd told them their daughter was dead.

He couldn't forget the expression on their faces when he'd told them what had happened to their daughter before she'd died.

Tony wandered around his apartment, picking up things here and there, familiarising himself with everything. He didn't know what to do, his mind running in circles.

He wasn't expecting anyone, but when the doorbell rang, he was grateful. It was Josh, a six-pack of beer in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other.

"Hi, boss."

For a moment, Tony couldn't breathe. The tone of voice and the haunted look in Josh's eyes reminded him of too many nights that he'd shown up on Gibbs' doorstep with that exact same expression on his face. Only he'd always brought bourbon.

"C'mon in," he offered after a moment, knowing that the bleak desperation coming off Josh was reflected in his own gaze as well.

They settled on the couch, mixing tequila with beer and emptying the contents of Tony's fridge, staring at the wall and outside at the sea, the air thick with unspoken curses and questions.

 _Misery loves company_ , Tony thought darkly and got himself another beer.

\---

They were both well on their way to being drunk, but still too sober to forget the pictures of the little girl.

"Fuckin' hell," Tony cursed, anger and resignation battling in his voice, and ran a hand through his hair. When he looked up, Josh's face was inches away from his and Josh's hand was warm and heavy on his leg.

There was a split second in which Tony could have drawn back, could have ended it before it all started. This was a bad idea. Tony didn't draw back. He didn't care if this was stupid. Josh had come on to him, so he obviously wanted it, too, and they both needed to forget. To distract themselves.

He tilted his head, crossing the distance between them and closing his mouth over Josh's.

It wasn't a gentle kiss by far. It tasted bitter and of too much alcohol, but it was solid and real, chasing away the pictures of the girl's broken body. It was solid and real in ways the memory of Gibbs wasn't and Tony leaned into it, closing his eyes and hunting for Gibbs' taste in Josh's mouth.

They ripped at their clothing, starving for touch, warmth and life, all the while sucking and biting. Tony's lips felt bruised and each kiss verged on painful. His cock was throbbing in time to the blood rushing through his head and he pressed himself closer against Josh.

There was a moment of awkward fumbling and restless silence as they tried to figure out who would fuck whom - because there was no question about where this was headed, but it was no good.

Josh wasn't Gibbs. He didn't fit Tony the way Gibbs had, seamlessly and easy. It was hot and consuming, but it wasn't the same.

They moved against each other, all hard friction and moans filling the air. There wasn't anything to say, after all.

When Tony came, he called out for Gibbs, just as Josh groaned "fuck, David". They didn't look each other in the eye when they cleaned themselves up, finishing their beers in silence.

It was a little easier to keep the pictures of the little girl at bay. That was all that mattered.

\---

After Josh left, Tony did go to sleep. The apartment smelled of sweat and sex and Tony couldn't dismiss the emptiness settling in his stomach (it should have been Gibbs, not Josh), but he wasn't thinking of the little girl anymore.

Monday morning, Tony and Josh went running as usual. It was surprisingly easy to fall back into the same behaviour as before, with no awkwardness left. Nothing had changed between them.

And after their morning run, Tony could go into work without feeling like he'd failed his team and Julia's parents, like he'd failed everyone.

\---

Life went on. It always did.

\---

From: bowling_with_nuns@gmail.com  
To: a.dinozzo@gmail.com  
Subject: resistance is futile

Tony,

We're coming to visit you. I know where you work and I can track your phone, so don't even try to weasel out of this (though I _really_ don't know why you would even want to! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get Gibbs to agree to this? McGee and Ziva, too. And you try getting a holiday for the whole team all at once! It's virtually impossible! But I managed, of course. Well, with a little help.)

We'll see you in a little over a month. I'll e-mail you the details later on.

Love,  
Abby

\---

Tony read the e-mail three times. He felt numb.

This was why he'd never kept in contact with anyone from a work place he'd left (ran from) before, he realised.

At the same time, he couldn't deny the little flutter settling low in his gut. He hadn't thought they'd make the effort.

\---

They got another case, another murderer to catch, and, for a while, Tony forgot all about the e-mail.

Friday evening they went out, to the bar Tony had taken them the first time. It'd become a tradition of sorts; Tony never intended for that to happen, but he liked it.

After a little over an hour, Trish was already well on her way to drunk. She leaned forward, her eyes wide and serious. "My former boss harassed me," she said, pronouncing each syllable very carefully in the way drunk people do. "That's why I requested the transfer."

They were all quiet for a moment and in that silence, Trish settled back and smiled. "I'm happy here." Her gaze settled on Tony. "You're a good boss."

Amanda patted her hand, her voice warm when she told Trish she'd done well to get out of that situation.

Tony settled back in his chair, regarding them with a little half-smile. The warmth spreading through his body had nothing to do with alcohol.

\---

Tony bought a car, a '66 Mustang that would eat up gas money and had a shiny black finish, a new radio and more technical gadgets than he would ever need. It was love at first sight.

He didn't think about the e-mail at all.

\---

"My old team is coming to visit," Tony blurted out the next time he went running with Josh. The sea wind was salty on his face and the early morning sun burned his neck. He felt calm, like nothing could harm him.

They slowed down to a walk, blood pumping and their breathing hard and fast.

"My old boss, Gibbs, and-- and everyone else."

Tony could see the realisation dawn on Josh's face, could pinpoint the exact second Josh got it. So Josh remembered whose name he'd called out that night. Tony wondered if he'd meet Josh's David at some point, what their story was.

"You gonna be all right?" Josh asked gruffly.

Tony shrugged. "Don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"There's always a choice." Josh's eyes turned bleak before he looked away. Tony almost asked what choice Josh had made to bring that pain into his voice, but he bit down the question. Josh was right. He did have a choice. He could tell Abby he didn't want to see them. It would hurt her, but she'd have to accept it.

Tony realised he actually wanted to see them. Maybe it was time to let go of a few things.

\---

From: a.dinozzo@gmail.com  
To: bowling_with_nuns@gmail.com  
Subject: re: resistance is futile

Abby,

Are you hitching a cargo ride or taking the conventional way? I recommend the Hotel Playa de la Luz. It's where I stayed when I first got here.

Bring me some DVDs, will you? Hard to come by region one DVDs over here. I attached a list of movies I don't have yet.

Remember to e-mail me the details.

\- Tony

\---

Tony was a social person. He'd always liked spending time around other people, even though he sometimes saw the need to withdraw himself from company. He did better work when he was alone and that had prompted several night-time visits at the office, no matter where he'd worked at the time.

Tony didn't mind spending an evening alone in his apartment with a movie, take-out and a beer, but it made him feel detached. He preferred spending his time in company.

Despite that, he decided to go to the beach on his own the next weekend.

\---

Tony rented a surfboard at the beach and threw himself into the waves, trying to remember everything he'd ever learned about surfing. It wasn't much, but he managed to stay upright for longer than he'd expected, before a particularly strong gust of wind tipped him over.

The water was warm, salty and bright blue and there were a couple of other surfers around, sailing boats in the distance and families with children at the beach. When Tony came up again, spluttering and gasping for air, he felt the sun on his face and couldn't help but smile.

He tried again and again, sometimes managing to stay upright and on the board for long stretches of time, sometimes falling over almost immediately. It didn't discourage him. Each time, he came up again, laughing to himself.

He didn't think of work or Gibbs or anything at all, not even once. All that existed was the ocean, the sun and Tony.

Tony didn't know how much time he'd spent surfing, but when his stomach started rumbling, he noticed that his muscles were beginning to feel sore and his skin seemed stretched too tight.

He gave back the surf board and treated himself to French fries that were too salty and a large Coke, slipping his sunglasses on and sitting down in the shade.

Back in his apartment, Tony realised that he was sunburned and would have aching muscles the next morning. Despite that discomfort, he felt good. He felt happy. And he hadn't needed company for that.

Tony went to sleep with a smile on his face.

\---

"You, boss, have one hell of a sunburn," Amanda said in lieu of a greeting. Tony laughed, even though the skin across his cheeks and nose protested.

She poked his chest with a finger and when he winced, forced him to take of his shirt and smeared lotion all over his back. When Tony asked why she kept the lotion in her desk, she smirked. "Always be prepared. I knew one day someone would catch themselves a nasty sunburn and then my hour would come."

Josh wandered in while she was applying the lotion on his lower back. He took one look and started grinning. "Kinky, boss."

"I heard that, Delaney," Tony shot back immediately.

Amanda patted his shoulder and Tony perched down on his desk, shirt in one hand, giving his skin time to absorb the lotion. "Nothing's happened yet," he started, "so it's cold cases until something does happen. Trish, recap the Harrison case for us?"

Work came easy that day.

\---

From: bowling_with_nuns@gmail.com  
To: a.dinozzo@gmail.com  
Subject: details

I can't wait to see you! Seriously, I can't wait! It's been way too long! So we booked our flights and we'll be there for a week and we booked the hotel you recommended. Ziva and I are sharing a room and Gibbs is sharing with McGee. I really hope the bossman will play nice because otherwise, McGee is gonna be scarred for life and we don't want that, do we? No, we don't.

Anyway. We can't come for longer than a week because Gibbs thinks America will fall into the ocean without him there to protect it. Oh, and Ducky can't come. He has to look after his mother. But I'll give you a big hug from him.

Attached are the details on our flights and so on. We'll probably be all jet-lagged, so I figure we should meet up for breakfast Saturday morning. How's that?

I made McGee buy some of the DVDs on your list. Not much longer! Can't wait to see you!

\- Abby

\---

The closer the date came to when his former team (Gibbs) would arrive, the less worried Tony became. He had made a life for himself in Rota. His new team did its job very well-- he did his job as their team leader well.

He was happy, he told himself firmly.

That didn't stop the nervous flutter in his stomach every time he thought of seeing them again. He didn't know what to say to them, how to behave. Dealing with Abby wouldn't be a problem and Tony figured he could keep Ziva and McGee at an arm's length easily if he wanted to. All it took was a few carefully chosen words, a frat-boy remark, and they'd roll their eyes and say that he hadn't changed at all.

Gibbs was another matter entirely.

\---

"Tony!" Abby squealed. Every single head in the hotel lobby turned towards her as she bounced over to Tony and hugged him close, her mouth already running a mile a minute.

"Wow, Tony, look at you, you're all tanned and did you work out? It suits you! Are those blond highlights in your hair or did it just naturally turn light in the sun? Seriously, you'd think with your Italian roots, you'd have darker hair and all."

Tony laughed and hugged her back just as tightly. "Calm down, Abs. It's good to see you." And he meant it. It was good to see her. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed her bubbly nature.

He hugged Ziva as well. It seemed to surprise her and Tony couldn't blame her for that. After all, he'd walked out on all of them without even saying good-bye.

McGee got some manly slapping on his back and a quip about how pale he was. It wouldn't do to let McGee think he'd gone soft on him, after all. Tony refrained from calling him Probie, though. He still remembered the last time he'd done that and he wasn't keen on repeating that argument.

That left Gibbs. Tony stepped up to him, holding out his hand and swallowing down the "Boss" lodged in his throat. "Gibbs."

Gibbs took his hand, his gaze holding Tony's. Tony could make out some lines in Gibbs' face that hadn't been there before. He wondered if he was responsible for any of them, nervousness and heat curling tight in his belly. He was the first to look away.

He'd missed them all, but seeing them brought up the old feelings again. Tony pushed the worry and insecurity away and grinned.

That was what they expected of him, wasn't it?

\---

They had breakfast in the hotel, sitting outside in the sunshine on the terrace. Most of the time, Abby was talking. She filled Tony in on the latest cases they'd had, with McGee and Ziva filling in blanks here and there, and she talked about the concert she'd been to and about mutual acquaintances of theirs.

Gibbs was silent the whole time, but Tony could feel his gaze on him, and every time he lifted his gaze, he caught Gibbs looking at him with an expression on his face that Tony couldn't figure out.  


\---

"I say we all gotta go take a walk on the beach," Abby said when they'd finished their breakfast. "It's been ages since I've been to the ocean!"

She made an interesting picture, in her short black skirt and black gothic t-shirt, her hair up in pigtails as usual and her tattoos on display, bouncing and skipping through the sand. Ziva followed her at a more sedate pace and McGee fell in step with Tony.

"Look, uhm, Tony, I just--" McGee started and then broke off, looking down in embarrassment. Tony thought he knew what was going to come next. He probably wasn't the only one who vividly remembered their conversation.

"Spit it out before you get a knot in your tongue," he said, not unfriendly. He had to remind himself of his resolution to deal with these things, to let them go, to keep himself from making a snide remark and dissuading McGee from pursuing this path of conversation.

"I just--" McGee took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I wanted to apologise. For saying that you didn't deserve your own team. I was wrong and I shouldn't have said that. It was spiteful and mean and I knew it wasn't true."

Tony didn't say anything for a moment. He'd seen this coming, but that hadn't prepared him for the surge of old bitterness the memory brought up. He swallowed down the urge to rant, to explain that he'd done his best to lead the team and that he'd been good at it, that he was good at it, that he was a good team leader.

Tony closed his eyes, tilting his face towards the sun and tried to let it go. He didn't have anything to prove to McGee.

He finally settled on a simple "Apology accepted." There wasn't much else to say, after all.

McGee looked undecided, opened his mouth and closed it, then opened it again. "And-- I don't really mind when you call me Probie," he added.

Tony shrugged. He wouldn't. He didn't want things to go back to the way they were before. He could forgive, but he wouldn't forget.

\---

"I hope you brought a tourist guidebook so that you can go see the sights or something. I won't be around to entertain you all the time," Tony told them over lunch. He was treating them to it, in one of the little restaurants along the boardwalk.

Tony was getting more and more practised at switching back and forth between Spanish and English, chatting easily with their waitress before turning back to the team.

"This is like a real vacation," Abby squealed. "I'm even going to get a tan!"

"How very un-goth-y," Tony replied immediately and she threw her napkin at him. "No, seriously," he continued, "I have to work. My team isn't on vacation, after all."

Gibbs studied him, still with that same strange expression he'd worn the whole time. "I'll come visit the field office," he said.

Tony squared his jaw and looked back at Gibbs steadily. Gibbs wasn't his superior anymore; they shared the same rank now.

"If you don't mind," Gibbs finally amended.

Tony nodded, satisfied. "I don't mind." He shrugged, the tension leaving his shoulders again. Gibbs would have to learn that he couldn't order Tony around anymore. Those days were over.

\---

Tony and Josh fell into step easily. Josh had longer legs, but Tony had been running for longer; endurance and practise evening out that particular disadvantage.

Running with Josh was challenging, but Tony wouldn't have it any other way. It drove him to better himself, the easy companionship between them made for good company and most importantly, it stopped Tony from thinking.

When they were running, nothing existed other than the ground under Tony's feet, the blood pumping through his veins, the wind against his skin and the sun on his face, Josh's steps steady alongside his own.

Even today, his mind was blissfully blank when they slowed down to walk the last few steps before stretching. When Josh asked about his former team, it surprised him, but he still felt calm.

"My former boss is popping in on us later today," Tony replied.

Amanda or even Trish would have inquired about his feelings on the matter, posed some question along the lines of "And how does that make you feel?" only in the extra-sensible way, with that we-care-for-our-boss voice that Tony was completely helpless against.

Josh only clasped his shoulder for a moment and squeezed. "I'll bring more donuts for breakfast."

\---

In the end, the whole team accompanied Tony to work that day.

Abby said she wanted to check out the forensic lab (which Tony knew wasn't as well equipped as the one in Washington D.C. was) and McGee and Ziva had decided to tag along.

Tony still couldn't work out what Gibbs' motivation was in all of this. Why was he here? Why had he agreed to come to Rota in the first place? Tony couldn't figure it out and Gibbs' stoic expression didn't help at all.

Did Gibbs feel the need to check up on the team in Rota to see if they were living up to his expectations and standards? That thought made Tony angry, but he suppressed the feeling. His team did very well and he made a good team leader. He reminded himself that he didn't have anything to prove to Gibbs or anyone else. His team's success rate and his own actions spoke for themselves.

What other reasons could there be, though? Curiosity? Tony didn't dare consider the other possibilities that came to mind. He was supposed to get over Gibbs, after all. Thinking Gibbs might have come to Spain because he'd wanted to see Tony again wouldn't do any good.

Josh had kept his promise. When Tony made his way to his desk, his former team following behind him like ducks, looking around themselves and staring at everyone and everything, there was a large box of donuts waiting for them.

"Didn't expect you to have quite this many visitors today, boss," Trish commented, looking over Tony's former team.

Tony shrugged. "Didn't expect it either." He left it at that. It was true, after all. He hadn't quite expected this, hadn't asked for it. He still didn't know how to react, how to feel about the fact that Gibbs was here and inspecting his team, his work. All he knew was that he didn't like the feeling.

"Donut?" Josh asked nonchalantly and held out the box.

For a moment, Tony wondered how Gibbs would see his new team and he studied his team members. Josh with his band t-shirts, the leather pants and the dreadlocks seemed out of place, and at the same time at home in his own skin – a bit like Abby, though it was difficult to really compare the two. He thought Gibbs might like Amanda and her calm no-nonsense attitude. The two were a bit alike, but Amanda had a motherly side to her where Gibbs was only gruff and sarcastic.

Trish, he figured, would easily meet Gibbs' requirements when it came to ability. She was brilliant, he knew that by now. But he also remembered how vulnerable she'd looked when she'd confessed that her old boss had molested her and Tony couldn't imagine Gibbs looking down kindly on that kind of weakness.

Maybe he was being unfair, though. Gibbs had been hard on them, on all of them (but especially on Tony), but never to the point of being cruel. A small voice in Tony's head pointed out the times Gibbs had literally kicked him out after a good fuck, told him not to stay the night, and he could still clearly remember the events leading to his accepting Jenny's offer and leaving. Gibbs hadn't given any thought to Tony's feelings. It might not have been active cruelty, but it had hurt all the same.

"I'm going to visit the lab now." Abby was bouncing, a donut in one hand and the other gesticulating as she babbled away about the lack of Caf Pow! in Rota. She dragged McGee away with her. Ziva sat perched down on Josh's desk. Tony only caught the edge of their conversation, but apparently they were comparing their weapons, discussing the merits and disadvantages of the different models.

Amanda brought him up to speed, but there was no new case. They all chatted amicably for a bit, which felt normal and weird because of that. This shouldn't be normal. They shouldn't all be getting along. It was making him twitchy and restless, his skin feeling too tight, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Abby and McGee came back, "So I really gotta say, the lab in DC is so much better. Nothing compares to my babies!"

Tony took a deep breath. "Guys, you gotta go now. We might not have a case right now, but that doesn't mean that we don't have work to do."

"We could totally help," Abby said, her eyes wide and hopeful and Tony felt bad for a moment. She was trying so hard to pretend nothing had ever happened. And nothing had happened between her and Tony, but he couldn't pretend that things were still the same with the rest of the team.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Abs," he replied, trying to keep his voice even, so that it wouldn’t betray his discomfort and unease.

Eventually, they all agreed to leave and Tony suppressed a sigh of relief. He still loved them, all of them (Gibbs), but he couldn't forgive them yet. That would take more than a visit.

\---

"Mind if I stay here?" At least this time Gibbs asked and didn't just assume that he could. When Gibbs noticed Tony's hesitating, he added, "Please?"

Abby staged a gasp immediately and Ziva snorted. Tony remembered that McGee and her had missed that other time when Gibbs had used that word before, that time he'd wanted to tag along with Kate on the Air Force One. At least he hadn't offered Tony a piece of chewing gum.

Before he even knew it, he'd agreed to let Gibbs stay, the words leaving his mouth without checking back with his brain first.

\---

Tony couldn't forget Gibbs' presence, but when they got to work, he came to ignore it. The weight of Gibbs' gaze rested on him, but the sensation had slipped to the back of his head and he found himself interacting normally with his team again, the awkwardness from before  
gone.

The team was reviewing cold cases and Tony took the time to check up on the reports on their last case.

Josh came over to his desk, leaning down. One of his dreadlocks brushed against Tony’s cheek and he suddenly felt very aware of how they must look.

"You gonna be okay, boss?" Josh asked, his voice quiet and calm. Gibbs wouldn't be able to make out the words.

Tony paused, not knowing how to answer that question. "I--", he started and then broke off again. "I think so."

He would be. Time to let things go, he reminded himself. And if he couldn't, it was only one week to get through.

"Thanks." He smiled at Josh and put a hand on Josh's leg for a moment, just above the knee, squeezing.

\---

At lunchtime, Tony found himself alone with Gibbs in a restaurant near the field office, his heart beating wildly. He still didn't know what Gibbs wanted.

\---

"You've got a good team." Gibbs' voice was gruff, a bit like he'd forced the words out.

Tony shrugged and speared some of his pasta on his fork. "They're good people and they're smart and dedicated."

"Like your old team."

Tony threw Gibbs a dark glare and didn't even bother to reply. He could understand comments like that coming from Abby and coming from her, he could overlook them easily. Coming from Gibbs, that was impossible. It made his stomach churn. He forced himself to continue eating anyway.

He started doubting himself, his resolve weakening. Why had he thought dealing with this was a good idea?

All his life, Tony had packed his things and run. He didn't know why it should be different this time, why it was different.

\---

That evening, there was a thunderstorm, lightning flashing over the suddenly dark sky and thunder growling. In the distance, the clouds had taken on a sickly shade of yellow. Tony half expected to hear dramatic music playing, but the only sounds between thunders were those of the city. Otherwise, everything was silent.

Gibbs offered to drive Tony to his apartment and Tony agreed because he didn't want his Mustang out in that weather. Or maybe he was just lying to himself.

"Want to come up for a coffee?" Tony felt a flash of hopefulness accompany the words. He wanted to take them back, but he wanted Gibbs to say yes even more.

\---

The minute they were inside Tony's apartment, Gibbs kicked the door shut behind them, flipped them around and pressed Tony against it.

"Been wanting to do this all day," he growled and before Tony had a chance to process those words, Gibbs' lips were on his, hard and demanding. Gibbs was licking his way into Tony's mouth, mapping it out like he had to reacquaint himself with every inch of it, like he wanted to take residence and stay.

A small part of Tony protested, wanted to say This isn't what I want, I didn't mean for this to happen and he didn't actually want to repeat past mistakes, but the majority of him just didn't care, because he had Gibbs' hands on his body and Gibbs pressed up against him and if it was just for one moment, one night, then it would have to be good enough.

Tony closed his eyes and melted into the touch. He didn't want to want this, but his cock sprang to attention, told him in clear terms that it didn't care what he wanted, he needed this.

Gibbs worked open the fly of Tony's pants, pulling out his shirt and running a flat palm over Tony's abdomen, feeling his way around muscle and bone and sinew, over skin that heated up under his touch. When Gibbs rubbed a thumb over one of his nipples, Tony let his head fall back against the door and moaned softly.

He caught the edge of a feral grin from Gibbs before his eyes slid closed again and then Gibbs was nipping down on his jaw, making his way down Tony's throat and leaving a wet trail of open-mouthed kisses and bites.

Gibbs drew Tony's shirt up over his head roughly and for a second, Tony got tangled in it, lifting his arms and ducking his head. There was the sound of a button springing loose before the shirt came off, Gibbs' polo following suit.

The slide of skin against skin made Tony gasp and he heard a quick intake of breath coming from Gibbs as well that filled him with the same sense of accomplishment Gibbs' hard cock pressing against his thigh did.

They stumbled towards Tony's bedroom, fumbling in the dark, kicking off their shoes and socks and dropping their pants while trying to keep touching and kissing. Tony couldn't get enough of the salty taste of Gibbs' skin, the scent of coffee and sawdust that had followed Gibbs all the way to Spain.

They fell onto the bed in a mess of tangled limbs and stayed like that, legs intertwined and arms around each other, their hips shifting and rubbing, their cocks brushing against each other. Each bump and each slide drew another moan from Tony and soon his perception narrowed down to just Gibbs and the sensations he produced in Tony.

When Gibbs drew back, Tony felt cold in all the places Gibbs had touched before and it went more than skin-deep. He froze in place, eyes going wide, and licked his lips nervously.

"Lube?" Gibbs' words made something in Tony unclench again ( _he isn't leaving, thank God, he's not leaving!_ ) and he waved a hand at his bedside drawer, using the time it took for Gibbs to open the drawer and get the lube to simply study the other man.

Gibbs hadn't changed much, but the tan from Mexico had faded away - Tony found it ironic that he was the one with the tan, now, he was the one who'd run this time. The muscles under his skin still shifted in ways familiar to Tony and he placed a hand on Gibbs' hip, running his fingers over Gibbs' side and his ass and the thigh, watching the muscles bunch up and relax again, just the way he remembered.

This, at least, had never changed between them, the physical aspect of their relationship, the place where they'd always clicked - whether it was in the field or in the bedroom, the same principle translated to both. They could foresee the other's actions, here, without question or doubt or insecurity. Tony had never experienced quite the same with anyone else.

Gibbs pushed him back into the mattress with one hand on his chest, his gaze fixed on Tony's face, on his lips that felt puffy and raw from kissing. He licked over them and watched Gibbs' eyes go dark.

Tony drew his legs up to his chest, knowing what he must look like, flushed and open, and not caring.

Gibbs' fingers inside of him, pushing and rubbing over his prostate over and over again, made him whimper and gasp for breath, low sounds that he wasn't fully aware of coming from his throat. Gibbs prolonged it, kept going and going, taking Tony higher with each move.

There was something almost eerie in it, the thunder cracking over their heads. Except for his hand, Gibbs didn't move at all, perfectly still, his gaze never once leaving Tony's and even though Tony felt like his eyes were going to roll back from pleasure, he couldn't look away.

Tony was long past the point where he thought he couldn't take more, when Gibbs finally - finally - shifted on the bed, positioning himself and sinking into Tony. Tony could feel his body stretch around Gibbs' cock and there was a hint of pain to it, counterpoint to the pleasure curling in his stomach.

Gibbs' cock was hot inside him, even through the material of the condom, and Tony wondered if he was going to burn from the inside.

With the next roll of thunder, Gibbs started moving, smooth and torturously slow thrusts, every single one of them sparking more pleasure in Tony until all he could do was hold on, hold on to Gibbs and the sheets and anything at all. His hands flung about, gripping Gibbs' shoulder and curving in the pillow.

Gibbs pressed forward, one hand coming to rest on Tony's knee, pushing his legs further apart. With the other, he braced himself and began to move in earnest, hips snapping forward and back until Tony could feel the slap of Gibbs' balls against his ass. Each flash of lightning illuminating the curl of Gibbs' muscles.

In that moment, they were all that existed. The burn and stretch of Gibbs' cock inside him, the pleasure sparking through him, pooling at his spine and making his toes curl, the sounds filling the air, even the smell of sex, of Gibbs.

It all kept building up, verging on the edge of too-much. Tony came with a muffled shout, his back arching off the bed, his orgasm searing through him, bringing blindingly white hot pleasure.

When Tony started coming down, started perceiving his surroundings again, Gibbs was holding on to his hips with both hands and thrusting into him hard and ruthlessly, taking and taking.

That was okay, that was good. Tony felt loose and relaxed, content, not a care in the world. He moulded himself against the pillows and watched Gibbs' face, the open lips and the small frown forming between Gibbs' brows, the way his gaze was now unfocused, glazed over with lust.

Gibbs wasn't handsome like this, not in the way he usually was, but the sight took Tony's breath away all the same. It was intimate and it was real.

Gibbs came with a drawn-out groan, biting down on his lower lip, his hips shifting another time before he went entirely still. Neither of them moved, frozen in the moment, Gibbs panting softly.

Slowly, way too soon, Gibbs moved away, tying off the condom and coming to lie next to Tony, drawing the sheet over them. Tony rolled to his side, half-curling into Gibbs without a second thought.

Before he went to sleep, he thought he heard Gibbs say "Come home to us," but he chalked it up to his imagination, to wishful thinking. This, Gibbs next to him, that had to be enough. That had to be all.

\---

When Tony woke up the next morning, Gibbs was gone. If not for the soreness in his ass, Tony wouldn't have believed it had happened at all.

He expected to wake up alone, but it still stung.

\---

Abby called while Tony was busy wrapping up the remainders of the day’s flavour – mainly, a murder that had been ridiculously easy to solve because the murderer had broken down at the crime scene and remained there, sobbing, even when her neighbour had called the police.

Her husband, Petty Officer Lanton, had admitted to cheating on her and in the following fight, she’d lost control. “I didn’t mean to,” she repeated over and over in the interrogation. “I was just so angry. I didn’t mean to.”

Trish had taken the call. “Miss Sciuto asked if you’d like to have dinner with them at the beach and to please pick a restaurant.” Her voice was quiet and she held herself just a little too stiffly, her back a little too straight. _She’s worried I’ll leave_ , Tony realised as soon as he’d identified the edge to her voice as jealousy.

He didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, so he plastered on his usual grin and winked at her. “Thanks. I’ve always wanted my own secretary. The Pepper Potts to my Tony Stark.”

Trish threw a ball of paper at him, but she seemed reassured.

\---

Tony had dinner with his old team. It was less awkward than their first dinner together in Spain and Gibbs pretended the whole time that he hadn’t fucked Tony into the mattress the night before.

Tony shifted in his seat until he felt the dull ache again that told him Gibbs had and smiled through it all, wishing the whole time things were different between them.

\---

Tony didn’t know whether he wanted Gibbs’ words to be real or just his imagination. He just didn’t.

\---

They decided to go to Tony’s favourite bar after dinner and Tony, mindful of the fact that he had to work the next morning, planned on drinking Sarsaparilla.

Abby held him back when they left the restaurant, linking her arm through his and falling into step with him. The others walked several yards in front of them.

“Tony,” Abby started, and just from that word Tony already knew he wasn’t going to like this conversation. “Tony, we want you to come back to DC with us. Say you’ll come back. Please?”

Tony hadn’t expected that. He stopped and stared at her, completely flabbergasted. Did that mean Gibbs’ words had been real after all? Did they really want him back? More importantly, did they want him back under the same conditions as before?

“Who is we, Abs?” Tony asked very carefully, pulling his arm away from her grasp and taking a step back, putting some distance between them.

“Us, I mean, me, I mean. Us. All of us. We miss you.”

Slowly, Tony shook his head. “You had your chance. All of you, you had your chance and you blew it.”

He took a deep breath and threw a quick glance at the others’ backs. They hadn’t stopped yet, hadn’t noticed Abby and Tony weren’t following them anymore. Either that, or they knew about the conversation that was going to take place, and didn't want to get involved.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t rein in the old anger that bubbled up every time he thought about the way his old team had treated him, the way they’d behaved towards him. This was the first time the anger overshadowed the hurt and not the other way around.

“What do you mean?” Abby tilted her head, honest confusion on her face.

Tony snorted. “You know, I’m perfectly aware of the fact that Gibbs blowing up and losing his memory wasn’t his fault at all, and him forgetting all of us – forgetting me – wasn’t his fault either, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. But him just running off to Mexico and leaving me to deal with the team with nothing more than a 'You’ll do'? How was I supposed to take that in any other way than badly, Abs? You tell me.”

He growled. “And all those times before that, that he kicked me out of his bed after fucking me, like I was nothing more but a cheap whore, think that didn’t hurt? Think I liked that?”

Abby’s wide eyes told him she hadn’t been aware of the relationship between Gibbs and Tony. And how could she have known? It hadn’t been much of a relationship to start with.

“And then he came back and just dropped my things back on my old desk, without even a word of thank you for holding all of you together when I couldn’t even keep myself from—oh, fuck it. Don’t you think I deserved better than that? At least a 'thank you'? The bastard retired, for God’s sake, and then he just came back.”

“And McGee saying I don’t rate my own team, what the hell was up with that, huh? What was up with that? Like hell I don’t rate my own team, I make a damn good team leader now and the same was true when I was still in DC. And even before that. Ziva’s dinner? Why didn’t anyone invite me? Why did none of you even think of mentioning it to me? A dinner with the whole team? Even Palmer was there. I guess I should have expected the rest after that, it should’ve told me what you really thought of me, but you know how it is. I’m so stupid, I just kept holding on and on to you.”

Once he’d started, Tony couldn’t stop anymore, all the bitterness and anger and hurt of before coming up, demanding to be let out. And this time, Tony let them.

“You were all so busy telling me that I’m not Gibbs, you completely ignored that I did a damn good job. Which I did. I’m a good team leader and I like doing it, but none of you ever appreciated a minute of the trouble I went through for you. I would’ve done anything for each and every one of you, but you didn’t think I deserved more than jabs and snide remarks, did you? So knock it off, Abby, ‘cause I’m not gonna come back just so that things can go back to the way they were.”

Tony looked at Abby for a moment, fists clenched by his side, before he turned and walked away.

Let her explain why he wasn’t coming to the bar with the others. In that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

She didn’t follow him, didn’t even call after him.

\---

Tony didn’t sleep well that night, doubt replacing his anger. Had it been right to say what he’d said, to say something at all? Had he given away too much? Wouldn’t it have been better to stay quiet?

He tried hard to convince himself that he didn’t care, but despite it all, he still did.

\---

Thankfully, work had been quiet the next day, but Tony was exhausted anyway when he made his way home.

There hadn’t been word from Abby or anyone else all day and Tony couldn’t decide whether he felt grateful for that or was worried about it. (He didn’t really want to deal with them.)

He thought about preparing dinner, but in the end, he settled on just ordering pizza. _Comfort food_ , a part of his brain whispered maliciously.

Tony ignored it, as he so often did.

He over-tipped the boy delivering the pizza, popped in an old time favourite movie of his into the DVD player and closed his eyes, letting the voices of Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor wash over him and take the tension away.

It never failed to work.

Tony was close to falling asleep, the insomnia of the night before catching up with him, when the doorbell rang again.

Tony got up to open the door, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. He stopped mid-motion.

It was Gibbs at the door, his gaze fixedly holding Tony in place.

“What do you want?” Tony asked, voice thick with the sleep he hadn’t been getting and with emotions.

“To talk.” Again, Tony couldn’t read anything from Gibbs’ face. He should be used to it by now, he thought, but it was still aggravating.

“Why? About what?” Tony’s voice sounded cold to his own ears, but he didn’t care. He was too tired to hold up the mask of the frat boy and if anyone had ever managed to see through it, it had been Gibbs.

What was the point?

“Can I come in?”

Tony was tempted to decline, to leave Gibbs standing outside and go back to his movie and the last slice of his pizza, to just ignore the world and the issues between the two of them. It would have been so easy.

Tony really liked taking the easy way out, but his curiosity won over and he stepped aside, letting Gibbs in.

Gibbs settled down on Tony’s couch, neatly pressed slacks and a grey shirt, his neck and a small v of his chest revealed. Tony averted his eyes.

“So talk,” he uttered, voice hoarser than he wanted it to be. He got up to get himself a beer, even threw a can at Gibbs as well who caught it mid-air.

“Abby came to talk to me last night.”

Tony leaned back and closed his eyes, slowly breathing in. Of course she would have gone to Gibbs, after what he’d told her. He never should have said a word.

“Look, if you’re worried about her knowing that you used to screw me senseless,” Tony very carefully used the past tense there, “I don’t think there’s much of a point to it. I’m not your subordinate anymore and anyway, Abby wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I know she won’t. That’s not why I’m here. I’m sorry I hurt you, Tony.” Gibbs sounded honest, but his face remained unreadable and Tony himself was too good at undercover work to let the sound of someone’s voice fool him.

“What do you want, Gibbs?” Tired, weary now. “You said you came here to talk, but so far, you haven’t done a lot of talking. What do you really want?”

“I want you to come home.”

Blue eyes caught green and their gazes locking was the only thing that kept Tony from snorting out loud, from giving a flippant reply and being done with it. Instead, there were so many possibilities swirling in Gibbs’ eyes, so many things Tony had always wanted to have, still wanted to have.

He thought about it, about going back. Would it change anything? Would Gibbs change? He hadn’t given any inclination that he would and there could be a number of reasons for him to want Tony back on his team.

Tony would have to be a fool to think it was personal.

“This is my home now.” As soon as Tony had spoken, he realised it was true. He felt at home here. That realisation calmed some of the dread, made it possible for him to hold Gibbs’ searching and questioning gaze without looking away.

Tony didn’t know how long they sat there like that, staring at each other, when Gibbs nodded once, sharply, and stood up.

Gibbs left without another word and after a moment, Tony went back to his movie. The pizza was cold by now, but he ate it anyway, washing it down with equally cold beer.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could have. It was enough.

\---

Despite watching two more movies that evening, Tony couldn’t calm down enough to sleep. He went running, sea air in his lungs and the moon hidden behind clouds, until he nearly collapsed at four in the morning.

At six, he was awake again, feeling worse than he had before.

\---

“Are you all right, boss?” Trish studied the dark rings under his eyes with an almost scientific interest.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face and suppressed a yawn. “Fine. Peachy. I’m doing great.”

“No need to get sarcastic,” Amanda chastised, but there was concern in her voice as well and later, Tony found an extra large cup of coffee with lots of sugar in it on his desk.

Josh didn’t say anything about the state Tony was in at all, but Tony could feel Josh’s gaze on him and the understanding in Josh’s eyes was the hardest to take.

\---

Abby called. Tony didn’t pick up the first three times, but when his phone rang for the forth time, he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Are you going to have dinner with us tonight? It’s our last day in Spain.” Abby sounded contrite and there was no mention of Tony’s outburst. He could appreciate that.

“Sure. I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

Tony wondered if it made him a bad person that he was almost glad they were leaving. He loved his old team, but being around them hurt.

\---

Their last dinner together was even more awkward than the first one, the air filled with tension. Tony did his best not to let it get to him, but between McGee’s stutter (rooming with Gibbs definitely hadn’t been good for him), Ziva’s assessing gaze and his own inability to look either Gibbs or Abby in the eye, conversation was bound to be slow.

At least the food was nice.

Gibbs hadn’t said much at all the entire evening, but when it was time to say goodbye, he pulled a flight ticket from his pocket. “Last chance, DiNozzo.” His eyes bore into Tony’s.

“We, uh, got you a spare ticket in case you decided to come back with us,” McGee added unnecessarily.

Tony swallowed dryly, anger and longing and pain fighting for the upper hand in his stomach. In the end, he held them all down, his face settling into the practised mask of a cheerful grin. “I hope you have a good flight and get home well. Abby, e-mail me when you’ve arrived, will you?”

He hugged Abby, and then Ziva and McGee as well. When he turned to leave, he caught the edge of a weird expression on Gibbs’ face. He was looking almost lost, sadness and something Tony couldn’t quite place reflected in his eyes and the set of his jaw.

Tony walked away and didn’t look back.

\---

“Are they gone?” Josh asked in between breaths, their feet hitting the ground at exactly the same rhythm.

Tony just nodded.

\---

Things went back to normal, but it took longer for Tony to find his equilibrium this time than when he’d first come to Spain.

His thoughts kept wandering back to the visit. Had they really wanted him to come back so badly? Had he done the right thing, made the right decision?

With time, his conviction that nothing would have changed had he gone back began to waver, doubt creeping in.

\---

If Tony were completely honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he would rather be in DC with his old team ( _with Gibbs_ ) than in Rota with his new team.

Not under the same conditions as before - he’d left for a reason and his belief that that had been the right decision hadn’t changed at all - but as much as he loved his new team, his heart was still hung up about the old.

But then, Tony wasn’t ever completely honest with himself, so that was easy to ignore.

\---

Tony both loved and hated undercover work, but he had no love left for the preparation it took at all.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Tony thought back to the time he’d been chained to Jeffrey White, with no possible way to let his team know where he was or that he was even still alive. The memory of Jeffrey was unsettling – he’d actually liked the guy and having to kill someone was never something that came easy, that didn’t make a lasting impression.

Things would be different this time, Tony vowed. He’d go undercover again ( _lose himself in someone else_ ), but he’d get the tracker implanted subcutaneously instead of in his shoe and there would be no killing.

The second one, Tony knew, might be out of his hand, but he could do something about the first.

“Do it,” he said.

\---

Trish hugged him and Amanda looked worried.

Tony threw his hands in the air. “Guys! It’s not the first time I’m going undercover and it won’t be the last. Stop making these faces at me.”

It took some more cajoling, carefully thought-through silly jokes and movie references before they at least looked like they believed Tony could do well and would be fine.

\---

“I don’t want you falling apart, boss.” Josh didn’t say anything else.

\---

Tony called Thomas, one of his frat brothers. They hadn’t talked since the weekend Tony had spent with the whole group before going to Spain, but they’d exchanged a couple of e-mails and Thomas had always been one of Tony’s closer friends. They’d been roommates.

Tony didn’t have any rituals, nothing he did every time before going on an undercover mission. He didn’t know what made him call Thomas this time, he’d never done it before.

The familiar voice calmed him, though, and even though they weren’t able to talk for very long because of both the different time zones and Thomas’ job, Tony felt reassured after.

The temptation to become someone else was always there, to create masks and layers of how Tony thought people wanted to see him, to become the person people wanted him to be. With the call, Tony felt he’d created a means of connection, something that tied him to who he used to be, who he was.

It helped.

\---

Alejo Pena was a handsome man in his own way. Not Tony’s type by any stretch, but if you went for dark (with greying edges), powerful and rich, Alejo Pena was your man.

He would have made the stereotypical drug dealer or pimp, but he was, in fact, a terrorist – or at least, that’s what Tony suspected.

Alejo Pena and Antonio DiNeri met entirely by accident in a bar that NCIS had carefully scoped out beforehand. It appeared to be Pena’s favourite bar in Rota.

“And you’re a US soldier, dear boy? Your name isn’t very American,” Pena said, studying Tony over the rim of his whiskey glass.

“Didn’t have a choice,” Tony let bleakness bleed into his tone and looked at the ground, his leg twitching nervously.

Pena raised an eyebrow and waved at the bartender to bring Tony another beer. Tony gave him a grateful half-smile and then sighed. “Italian immigrants. My father thought we’d make big money in the USA, but in the end, the only way to get even enough to keep our living expenses covered was for me to join the army.”

Tony shook himself, looking up at Pena with slightly widened eyes and an ironic twist around his mouth. “Now I’m working to protect the government of a country that’s given me and my family absolutely nothing. Isn’t it great?”

Pena’s hatred for the USA and for their government in particular was a well-known secret and, if Tony played his cards right, it might just be his ticket into the man’s trust. Not at once, of course, those things took time, but if Pena took to him…

“I like you, boy,” Pena said amicably and patted Tony’s hand on the table. Tony wanted to throw up, but instead he looked down again, a little bashful this time, and forced a smile to play around his lips.

“Thank you, sir.”

\---

“First contact, established,” Tony said with a wide smirk when he wandered into the bullpen the next morning. He didn’t particularly feel like smirking, not really, but it would make his team worry less. That made it worth it.

“How did it go?” Amanda asked and Trish looked at him with wide eyes, awaiting his answer.

Tony launched into a story that shared all the facts of his encounter with Pena and none of the details.

They didn’t need to know the way Antonio felt about Pena reminded Tony of the way he felt about Gibbs, only without the sexual attraction. No one needed to know that.

\---

Antonio DiNeri ran into Alejo Pena three more times in the next week. The third time, Pena invited Antonio out to his holiday home.

“It’s not Italy, but maybe it’ll remind you of home, hm?”

Tony nearly snorted. He didn’t even know where he felt at home anymore. In a way, it was nice to be Antonio DiNeri for a while. Things were cut in black and white for the kid and he knew where his heart belonged.

\---

Things were almost too easy after that. When Pena suggested Antonio could get a little revenge on the government that had hurt his family, Antonio was all too eager to comply and the minutely laid out plans Tony had made were set into motion.

The cargo ship he blew up hadn’t actually contained any cargo, but hopefully, Pena would never find out about that.

\---

It had been a test, everyone knew that. Antonio passed it with flying colours.

\---

Tony found it slightly ironic. Here he was, team leader of the Major Crime Response Unit of the NCIS field office in Rota and most of his time was spent designing ways to commit crimes in the name of Alejo Pena that weren’t actually crimes but would appear as such.

Sometimes, undercover work was just plain weird, but at least it gave him something to think of other than Gibbs.

\---

Tony remembered Jeanne and his last undercover mission all too clearly. That one had ended in tears. Tony wasn’t about to seduce someone this time, so he figured it might just be okay.

\---

“You’re a good kid, Tonio.” Pena smiled benevolently at Antonio and Tony had to fight his gag reflex.

Pena patted the seat next to him and Tony sat down, his eyes never once leaving Pena’s face.

“I’ve got big plans,” Pena started and Tony made himself suppress the cheers, the thoughts of yes! and finally!, and nodded, eyes wide and focused on Pena alone, just the way he knew Pena liked it.

“I will hurt America. Not all of America, mind you - I’m ambitious, yes, but I know my own limitations. No, I’ll hurt the Marines, I’ll hurt the Navy. I’ll hurt the guys protecting the country. Doesn’t that sound good to you, doesn’t that sound just to you? It will show America how weak they are, how vulnerable.”

Pena laughed and Tony licked over his dry lips and leaned forward, a picture of rapt attention.

“I have found a way to get a couple of my guys into the office of the Secretary of the Navy. We’ll take Paul Thompson, the Secretary, hostage and demand that the American troops are withdrawn from Spain. How’s that? No more controlling Spain, no more controlling my home country. And you, you’ll be compensated for your troubles. You’ll be able to go home, boy, with your whole family. Won’t that be great?”

Pena looked very satisfied with himself and Tony wondered, not for the first time, what had driven the man to hate America with such a passion, what his ultimate political goal was. He didn’t understand Pena and the more time he spent with him, the less he wanted to.

“Are you going to come to Washington DC with me, boy?” Pena asked and while Tonio immediately agreed, Tony had to fight down feelings of dread.

Tony was beginning to think this undercover mission would end just like all the others, badly.

\---

"I don't like this at all, boss." Josh shook his head, his eyes hooded and his mouth a straight line.

Tony shrugged. "I don't like it much, either. But someone's gotta do it and I'm not letting that terrorist blow up something in DC just because I didn't want to go back there."

He didn't want to go back there, he told himself, and a part of him really didn't. That part of him told him it would only re-open old wounds that had barely closed over time. Another part of him wanted to go back there and stay.

Tony wasn't going to let that happen (he'd walked away for a reason), but that didn't stop him from wanting.

\---

Tony called Jenny, giving her an update on the situation. She didn't make any comment when he told her he was coming back to DC - temporarily - and Tony was thankful for that.

\---

Amanda wanted to drive him to the airport. Tony hugged her and declined. Antonio DiNeri wouldn't have anyone bringing him to the airport. He hadn't made any friends, after all, even if Tony had.

He drove down to the airport himself, another flashy car and seven hours to lose himself completely in Antonio DiNeri.

Sometimes, it scared Tony how easily he could become someone else. It helped immensely with the undercover work, true, but Tony wasn't sure it really was a good ability to have.

\---

From: a.dinozzo@gmail.com  
To: bowling_with_nuns@gmail.com  
Subject: (no subject)

Abs,

I'm going to be in DC for an undercover job. I don't know yet how it'll go down, or whether I'll see you.

I'll let you know.

-Tony

\---

Antonio and Pena met up in DC the next time. Antonio hadn't asked how Pena was going to get weapons, or what he'd organised. Tony thought the blind trust Antonio had in Pena after such a short period of time was stupid, but he remembered putting that exact same trust in Gibbs.

"The Secretary of the Navy will hold a conference with all those high generals of the Navy and the Marines. My, ah, my company has been established as the catering service. Isn't it wonderful? We'll go in dressed up as waiters, as their good little servants, just the way America sees us all, and then we'll hit them right where it hurts. They never should have underestimated the rest of the world."

Tony took care to nod and keep his eyes wide and enthusiastic. He wasn't as patriotic as Gibbs, never had been, but Pena's words made something twist inside him, and not in the good way. The man was insane, fanatical. Tony didn't like it one bit.

Antonio was very impressed, though.

\---

His second night back in DC, Tony walked to his old street and stood in front of the apartment block he'd used to live in. There were lights burning in the windows of his old apartment. Tony didn't know what to make of that.

\---

Tony opted to walk back instead of taking a cab. The air in DC had a different quality than that in Rota - less salty, no sea-wind. DC smelled like a big city, Rota like the sea.

He hadn't come very far when a car stopped by his side. He recognised it, but for a second, he couldn't place it, couldn't believe his own memory.

"DiNozzo. Are you going to get in?" Gibbs called out to him. For a moment, Tony couldn't move, frozen in place, before his instincts kicked in and he climbed into the car.

"What are you doing here, Gibbs?" He frowned. This wasn't near any of the places Gibbs usually frequented. In fact, it was out of the way for Gibbs.

Gibbs shrugged. "Abby mentioned that you'd be back in DC and I thought you'd come back to your old place."

"What, so you stalked the apartment I used to live in, hoping to catch me?" Tony rubbed a hand over his face and leaned against the cool metal of the car door.

A vaguely guilty look crossed Gibbs' face. "I prefer to think of it as a stake out for surveillance purposes," he replied dryly.

"I'm not a criminal, Gibbs. What do you even want from me?"

There was a long pause, Gibbs just driving and Tony watching the road, trying to figure out where they were going. It didn't seem as though Gibbs had a certain goal in mind, though. He was just driving around aimlessly.

That, more than anything else, confused Tony.

When Gibbs finally spoke, his voice was calm, business-like. He might as well have been speaking about the weather. "I want you to go out on a date with me."

Tony gave a choked noise, turning in his seat to stare at Gibbs who was still looking at the road, hands unmoving on the steering wheel.

A thousand thoughts and questions ran through Tony's head all at once and he couldn't even begin to sort them out. Was Gibbs serious or just playing with Tony? Had he fallen asleep and this was a dream? Wasn't this what he'd always wanted? What was Gibbs thinking? Would this endanger the mission?

"Please, Tony."

That settled it. Tony swallowed, his throat too dry and too tight all of the sudden, but he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go out with you. After this is over, I'll go out with you." He couldn't jeopardise the undercover work by being seen with Gibbs.

They didn't speak much after that, but there was a smile on Gibbs' face when he dropped Tony off at the hotel and Tony felt like himself again for the first time since he'd taken up the undercover mission.

\---

It was almost impossible for Tony to go to sleep that night. The time zones were all messed up, his body telling him that it wasn't time to sleep just yet and his mind being busy trying to figure out Gibbs' words, Gibbs in general.

Of course, he'd tried the latter for the last few years and never really gotten very far. On the job, he'd always been able to read Gibbs. They'd had the kind of understanding in the field that only few partners ever developed, the instinctual knowledge of what the other would do, what he was thinking, where he'd move.

Privately, Tony had never understood Gibbs. He'd thought, sometimes, that he'd finally figured Gibbs out, but every time, Gibbs just threw him another curve ball and left Tony wondering.

The bond they'd shared had always translated into the bedroom, but outside of it, their relationship - if you could even call it that, because they'd never been together - had been a mess. It still was.

And now Gibbs wanted to go on a date with him.

Tony rubbed both hands over his face and ran them through his hair, tossing and turning in the bed to no avail.

In the end, he got up and quickly dressed in a pair of running shorts, a shirt and his trainers, throwing a towel over his shoulder, and made his way to the hotel's gym. He figured he might as well use his time wisely.

Gibbs' words echoed through his head. Please, Tony.

Tony hadn't been able to say no to that. He hadn't even wanted to. It seemed he was still as weak as ever when it came to Gibbs.

He sighed, wondering if he'd ever learn, if things between them would ever change.

\---

Pena called at six in the morning, waking Tony from jumbled dreams of Gibbs and movies and terrorists.

"Boy, get ready, get up, we're going to meet someone," Pena's voice droned through the receiver. "We're going to meet someone important. The man who will provide us with weapons. Are you ready yet? Get up, get up!"

So Tony got up and under the shower, he slowly became Tonio, channeling all his feelings of anger and naivety, of boyish passion into that persona.

He met up with Pena an hour later in a small café. It still amazed him how easily Pena had accepted him in his ranks of terrorists. The man seemed to have taken a liking to him. Tony had to admit he didn't know what to make of Pena's almost paternal bearings towards him.

They sat down and ordered coffee. Pena chatted about the weather. Tony couldn't help feeling like something bad was about to happen, but what he wasn't prepared for was the man who came and sat down opposite him. La Grenouille. The Frog.

Tony stopped himself from gaping, barely managing to keep all expressions of surprise and recognition from his face, instead turning them into a look of curiosity. "Hi," he said, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows.

Pena stood up and clasped La Grenouille's hand in both of his, smiling broadly. The two of them didn't look like terrorists at all, more like two businessmen, or perhaps acquaintances who met up to play chess in a park somewhere.

Tony smiled when Pena introduced them, allowing his eyes to widen a fraction, taking that puppy-like expression that Pena seemed to find so charming. La Grenouille ordered tea and leaned back.

The French accent evident in his voice, he asked, "Shall we get to business, then?"

Pena folded his hands, though they didn't stay folded for long. There was a nervous energy about the man today that, in turn, made Tony feel twitchy, like his skin was too tight.

"Very well." Pena smiled, showing his teeth. How had Tony never noticed that gold inlay before? "I have mentioned already what our plan is. Will you be able to supply us with what we need?"

La Grenouille looked around, eyes following a small bird that was chased away by a pigeon. "I have an offer to make you, Monsieur Pena. One I think you will find very agreeable."

Tony wanted to bite down on his lips and hide his face in his hands, hoping that this offer wouldn't jeopardise his mission. Tonio, however, leaned forward, a study in attention.

"I'd love to hear that offer." Pena, too, leaned forward, his eyes focused on La Grenouille. His fingers were twitching against the surface of the table. Tony didn't think that was a good sign.

La Grenouille smiled, a bit darkly. Or maybe that was just Tony reading too much into things. He'd learned to trust his instincts with undercover missions, though, and his instincts were telling him this one was going straight to hell and he should start praying he'd get out alive and unscathed.

"I will supply you with all you need, under two conditions. One, I want to be present for the show-down and two, it will have to take place tonight."

For a moment, no one said anything. Tony was repeating a quiet mantra of "shit, shit, shit" in his head and refused to let anything show on his face except the surprise he hadn't been able to suppress. That was okay, Tonio would have been quite surprised at that statement, too. No one would suspect anything.

Pena was looking rather surprised, himself. "Tonight? But… We have made plans already! We have instructed out men to infiltrate the food delivery and waiting service for the annual Marine ball. How can there possibly be a better opportunity?"

Now La Grenouille was looking just plain smug. "Tonight, the Secretary of the Navy will have dinner at the house of the lovely Jenny Shepard, Director of NCIS. And I happen to have a key."

Pena mulled that over for a while and Tony could almost see the cogs turning in his head. It would have been funny in any other situation, but right then, it just scared Tony.

"What about the publicity?" Pena asked. "I want it to _hurt_ America, truly hurt it."

A part of Tony was hoping for someone to overhear the conversation and piece the clues together, to figure it out and alarm the police, the FBI, _anyone_. The more rational part of him knew that this was quite possibly their only chance of catching both La Grenouille and Pena, both of which were on the NCIS' most wanted list.

It had to happen. And he was the one who had to make sure it went down as smoothly as possible.

La Grenouille leaned back and folded his hands. "Don't you think it would hurt America to have the Secretary of the Navy attacked, murdered or kidnapped from the private household of the Director of NCIS? If you cannot be safe within your own four walls, where can you? And do not worry, I will personally make sure the press gets just the right picture. It will hurt."

Tony swallowed dryly and quickly made sure that his attentive façade didn't waver, that the slightly admiring look hadn't faded from his expression.

He knew, even before Pena nodded and moved to shake La Grenouille's hand, that Pena would accept.

\---

Tony was glad both Pena and La Grenouille decided that Tonio was just along for the ride, to learn and observe. It gave him ample opportunity to listen to them without having to talk himself and to frantically think on what to do next.

Could he inform Paul Thompson and Jenny without blowing his cover, without endangering the mission? He knew he should, but the question was when and how.

He excused himself to go to the bathroom, his mobile phone heavy in his pocket. If somehow Pena had managed to bug the phone, Tony wouldn't only jeopardise the mission but also his own life.

His heart skipped a beat when Pena stood up as well and joined him. He kept himself from making a quip about only girls using the toilet à deux. He didn't think Pena would have appreciated that.

\---

The whole day, Tony was always surrounded by Pena or one of Pena's followers. There was no opportunity to inform anyone.

Tony felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. He was scared. At the same time, all his senses seemed to work better than usual, the tension and the adrenaline coursing through him allowing him to be more attentive, making his thoughts faster and clearer.

There were too many variables to predict the outcome. Surviving and keeping this whole operation from blowing up in their faces had become the main objectives of his new plan.

\---

Jenny's house had never seemed dark, threatening and sinister to Tony before, so he knew it was just him projecting his worries and fears onto the house.

He felt jittery, like his skin was too tight, but he made up for it by plastering a smile onto his face that was equal parts nervousness and excitement. Tonio wasn't scared, but for Tonio, not quite as much depended on this going all right - and Tonio had more childlike enthusiasm and optimism than Tony possessed. Pretending to be Tonio almost made him feel old.

They'd spend a large part of the early evening staking out Jenny's house. Her maid had gone grocery shopping and returned, presumably to make dinner. Jenny made it home at around five, looking in control of herself and her surroundings.

"She'll lose that attitude soon enough," Pena mumbled darkly under his breath and Tony had to force himself to nod and smirk at the words that would have filled Tonio with grim pleasure and only left Tony feel nauseated.

\---

Pena sent ten men in, equipped with weapons from La Grenouille, to secure the scene and make sure that Jenny and Thompson were held at gun-point, with no chance of escape and no chance of fighting back.

Only when he'd received word that this had happened did he walk in himself, side by side with La Grenouille, followed by Tonio.

Tony had to give it to him, the man wasn't stupid. If something had gone wrong, he would have lost ten men, but no one would have been able to spot him at the scene of the crime. _The man makes good use of his minions_ , Tony thought and almost cracked a smile.

Jenny and Thompson were sitting in Jenny's study, hands bound to the armrests of the large chairs. They'd used duct-tape. Tony hid a wince. That would hurt to remove.

Both Jenny's and Thompson's eyes flittered over Tony without remaining there. Thompson focused on Pena, the actual target of the operation, while Jenny glared at La Grenouille.

"Frog," she spat.

La Grenouille smiled and looked very satisfied with himself. "Madame Shepard. What a pleasure to meet you again."

Tony did a mental double-take at that one and then hoped it hadn't shown on his face the way it had on Thompson's. La Grenouille and Jenny _knew_ each other? Not just of each other, but they actually knew each other? That information was new and at the back of Tony's head, a small voice wondered why exactly she'd sent him to seduce Jeanne.

"What are you going to do with us?" Thompson asked, steel in his voice and his back ram-rod straight. The man was military, through and through. The perfect target for Pena.

Tony kept his breathing even, frantically thinking.

\---

The bad thing about Jenny's house was that, unlike the hall where the annual Marine ball was going to take place and where this stunt had originally been supposed to take place, it wasn't equipped with cameras that would pick up enough hard evidence to be admissible in court to put Pena away.

Tony turned a little to the side, away from Pena, under the pretense of studying Jenny's books, sliding one hand into his pocket and fiddling with his phone. He only hoped he still remembered the combination of keys that would take him to voice record correctly and that the phone would pick up something that would be useful.

\---

The men kept their guns trained on Thompson and Jenny, but they were starting to look more and more bored. Tony suspected they didn't share the same frantic passion to hurt America that Pena thought Tonio shared with him, nor did they share the nervous fear that almost bordered on panic which curled hot and tight in Tony's stomach.

How anyone could grow bored in a situation as filled with tension as this one was beyond Tony. Pena was musing, walking in measured steps around the chairs with Thompson and Jenny on them, occasionally rubbing his hands together.

"I wonder… I wonder what I should do with them."

"That's easy," La Grenouille chimed in. "You kill them." There was a glint in his eyes that Tony didn't like. It spoke of hidden plans and desires, but Tony couldn't figure them out. All he knew was that there was more between Jenny and La Grenouille than he was aware of.

Jenny was starting to look panicked herself, her eyes flitting back and forth between La Grenouille, Pena and Tony.

"I want to do it," Tony said, making his eyes wide and licking his lips, letting his tone be both nervous and cocky at the same time. "I wanna do it. I want us to do it." He looked at Pena. "I want us to do it together, just us. So we can say, so we can _know_ , it was really _us_ who hurt them, who hurt America."

"Fucking disgusting," one of the grunts muttered, but Tony ignored him and the sick feeling the words left, keeping his eyes trained on Pena.

Finally, after several breathless beats, Pena nodded slowly and a smile spread over his face. "I like you, boy. I really like you. We will hurt them so badly, hurt them where it hurts the most. America will feel the pain. This is good. I like this. Killing the Secretary of the Navy within the house of the person leading the agency meant to protect him. Oh, it's good. It's brilliant. The irony. How will we kill them? Slowly? Or should it be swift, to demonstrate our power over them?"

He clapped his hands and addressed the men. "You! Go wait in the truck. We'll collect you later on."

The grunts rolled their eyes and someone said something about "better getting paid anyway", but they all walked away and Tony began breathing just a little easier. The only variable that he couldn't predict at all now was La Grenouille - and, perhaps, Jenny.

La Grenouille let out a laugh and moved to stand behind Jenny, both hands on her shoulders, leaning down to speak against her hair. "Isn't it beautiful? In your own home, my dear. How does it make you feel?"

Tony could read the anger and disgust that almost radiated from Jenny, but he concentrated more on La Grenouille. The man was planning something. Pena, too, was catching up on that and Tony tried to find a way to bring the situation under control and resolve it now.

It turned out he didn't have to.

All of the sudden, things went down very quickly - too quickly for his mind to really process them. La Grenouille stepped away from Jenny and suddenly, her hands were free and she was pointing a gun at La Grenouille. Pena's eyes went wide and his fingers went to his own gun, but Tony was faster, instincts kicking in before he registered it. He had his gun trained on Pena, the finger on the trigger, in a heartbeat. "Don't move," he said coldly, dropping the act of Tonio completely.

Pena did freeze, as did La Grenouille. Unfortunately, Jenny didn't. She pulled the trigger, emptying the whole round into La Grenouille's stomach. Her eyes empty, she watched him fall to the ground.

Tony couldn't believe it.

\---

"This is… my revenge.. for nearly ruining my business.. for all these years," La Grenouille gasped out. His head fell to the side and his eyes became sightless, but even in death, La Grenouille managed to look smug.

Jenny stared down at the weapon in her hands and didn't protest when Tony slowly, carefully, took it away from her and put the safety back on.

He'd been right. This mission had gone straight to hell.

\---

"What's going to happen now?" Tony asked Paul Thompson once the ambulance had left and Jenny and Pena had been taken away by LEOs.

Thompson ran a hand through his hair. He looked very old for a moment, but the determination and the raw strength that Tony had always seen in him was still there.

"There'll be a process, of course, and the way things look, Director Shepard will be found guilty of murder. I'll have to appoint a new director, someone who's proven their loyalty and works well with both the teams and the public."

Tony nodded. He didn't know what to say to that.

"I already have someone in mind," Thompson told him. Tony didn't ask.

\---

The events of the mission didn't leave Tony's mind for the next days, as he tried to figure out all the pieces, as he tried to figure out what exactly had gone down.

In the end, he realised La Grenouille had planned the whole thing. Records and Jenny's diaries had shown her obsession with the man, how she'd constantly targeted him because she couldn't believe that her father had done something illegal. She must have believed that La Grenouille had set her father up, that his actions had resulted in her father's death.

And, in turn, La Grenouille had presented her an opportunity that would give her the revenge she was craving, but that would also cast a bad image on NCIS and would make her lose her job. The man was smart, Tony had to give him that.

He'd been lucky that his mobile phone was a new one, or it would not have had the technical abilities to record the words that incriminated Pena. The man would go down in court. Tony felt nothing but satisfaction at that.

Thoughts like that kept him occupied enough to keep him from thinking too much about his upcoming date with Gibbs.

\---

Thompson summoned Tony to his office the same day Tony and Gibbs were going to go on the date. The room, much like the man, screamed military at everyone who was willing to listen and look. At least the chairs in front of Thompson's desk were comfortable.

They exchanged some smalltalk and then Thompson folded his hands and leaned forward, his eyes focused solely on Tony.

"I want you to become the new director of NCIS."

For a moment, Tony couldn't breathe.

\---

Gibbs picked him up at the hotel at seven. Tony's mind was running in circles, going over the conversation with Thompson again and again, so it took him a moment to register the nervousness curling in his stomach and the fact that his mouth had gone dry at the image of Gibbs in jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt.

Once he'd looked, he couldn't stop looking, and he kept on throwing glances at Gibbs as they drove to the restaurant where Gibbs had, apparently, made reservations for them. Gibbs caught him looking a few times and smiled a little each time - not in a smug way that would have driven Tony to anger, but in a way that seemed content. It was not an expression Tony was used to see on Gibbs' face, but it was one he wouldn't mind seeing more often.

There was a new sort of tension between them, not the anger and pain from before, and not the purely sexual tension of other times. It was something quiet and it kept growing the further they drove.

"Where are we going?" Tony asked when he couldn't take the tension anymore.

Gibbs turned his head to look at him, but only smirked. Tony suppressed the urge to whine and ask again, but Gibbs was already pulling into a parking lot.

The parking lot of a cinema.

Tony tilted his head and studied Gibbs. That was one thing he hadn't expected. Gibbs had never made any allusion to being willing to watch a movie, much less with Tony.

Yet here they were.

"You'll get to pick the film," Gibbs told him. Tony swallowed and licked his lips (Gibbs' eyes followed the motion).

Tony didn't know what movies were on, since Spain was just a little behind the US when it came to premieres and he hadn't had the time to check since coming back to DC. The thought of his recent undercover mission made a shudder run down his spine. He tried hiding it from Gibbs, but he wasn't sure he succeeded. Either way, Gibbs didn't say anything.

Tony studied the marque, Gibbs standing next to him, close enough that their shoulders were touching.

Once Tony had chosen, Gibbs bought the tickets.

"Popcorn," Tony said, nodding to the counter, "and Coke. Otherwise, it's not a real movie experience." He ordered for both of them - Gibbs didn't protest - and paid, too. This might be a date, but Tony felt awkward letting Gibbs pay for everything. They were equals and, most importantly, they were both guys. Tony wasn't used to letting anyone pay for him.

Gibbs seemed to understand that. He quirked an eyebrow at Tony, but accepted his popcorn and soda with a nod and a thanks.

\---

They watched the movie in silence. It should have been clichéd to watch a movie on a first date, but there was no necking involved, no stolen kisses in the dark and no awkward fumbling.

Tony could feel Gibbs' body heat through his clothing and Gibbs' hand on his leg had him achingly hard and distracted for most of the movie, but nothing happened.

Before, they'd done nothing but fuck, now they were doing anything but. Tony didn't know what to make of the change.

\---

Dinner was more of the same. The tension between them had taken a turn to sexual once again, at least from Tony's side, but Gibbs wasn't acting on it.

They talked about the movie, they talked about old cases, they even talked about music. Sometimes, awkward silence took over, but for the most part, the conversation flew easy between them.

Tony hadn't expected that. He hadn't known what to expect, since he'd never gone on a date with Gibbs before, since he'd never even allowed himself to consider the possibility.

Gibbs drove him back to the hotel after dinner, and walked him up to his room.

There was no one else on the corridor when Gibbs leaned forward, placing his hands on the sides of Tony's face and kissing him. Gibbs' tongue mapped out Tony's mouth, chasing away all coherent thought and leaving behind the taste of coffee and Gibbs.

Tony's hands came up to curl into Gibbs' jacket and he gave an involuntary, soft moan from the back of his throat, tilting his head and pressing closer to Gibbs.

This was what he'd been waiting for the whole evening. It was familiar - but at the same time, not. Gibbs had never kissed him like this before, with this kind of focus on kissing alone. Kissing had been a part of foreplay or a part of sex for them, not something done for its own sake.

When Gibbs broke the kiss, pecking Tony on the lips once more before moving away and wishing him a good night, Tony was reminded that nothing about this evening resembled the way they'd been.

\---

Again, Tony couldn't sleep. There was too much on his mind. Thompson's offer. Gibbs. His team in Spain. His thoughts were a tangled mess and Tony didn't even know where to begin sorting it all out.

Instead of going to the gym or running, he sat down at the small desk in the hotel room and stared at the wall, toying with the pen and paper left on the desk. He drew little doodles on the paper and, flipping the page over, started writing down a list.

 **DC**  
Gibbs  
Stress / old team  
Change  
... dates. With Gibbs.

 **Rota**  
 _My_ team  
Independence / being the boss  
Sunshine / surfing  
donuts

Deep down, Tony had already made his decision and he knew it. What he didn't know was whether it was the right one or not.

\---

In the morning, Tony called Thompson. "I'll do it," he said.

\---

Tony flew back to Spain to inform his team. He refused to stay in DC and let them know over the phone or through a video conference. They deserved better than that. He wasn't just going to walk out on them. He remembered how much it had hurt when Gibbs had done that.

They all came to pick him up at the airport and for a moment, Tony doubted his own decision. He'd been happy here. Why was he moving on again?

They huddled together in the car. Amanda drove and Josh, with the reason of needing the legroom, had claimed the passenger's seat for himself. He sat there, half-turning to look at Tony.

"Shoot, boss. How did the mission go?"

Tony filled them in, sticking close to the report he'd filled out about it, but also leaving very little out. They were more than just his team, they were his friends.

\---

In the evening, they all went drinking together. Tony was feeling jet-lagged and tired, he had trouble keeping his eyes open, but he knew he wouldn't be able to go to sleep until he'd told them, nervousness and a sense of purpose urging him on.

"I've accepted the position as the director of NCIS."

For a moment, nothing but silence followed his words. Tony bit down on his lip, swallowing around the worry.

Then they all started speaking at the same time, congratulating him, asking whether he was going to leave them.

"I'll be sorry to see you go," Trish said, looking at him over the rim of her glasses.

Amanda nodded, lifting her glass in a silent salutation before smiling. "You gotta do what you gotta do and it's one hell of a step up the career ladder."

Josh remained silent after the first outburst of "What"'s and "really?"'s had died down.

Eventually, conversation settled down, even though they got back to both the undercover mission and the job offer every once in a while.

When Tony got so tired that he could barely see straight anymore, Amanda shooed him out of the pub. "You, boss, need to get to bed right this instant."

"Why, are you offering?" Tony asked, waggling his eyebrows at her. She only rolled her eyes and hit his shoulder.

"We'll cover the bill, so off you go."

\---

When they left the pub, Josh caught up to Tony, holding him in place with one hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Tell me you're not just doing this because of that guy, Gibbs." Josh's voice was hard and his eyes searched Tony's face.

"I'm not just doing this because of Gibbs."

The second the words left Tony's mouth, he realised he meant them. He was doing this for himself, because he wanted the job and because he knew he'd be good at it.

That sudden understanding made Tony smile and, looking up at Josh, he said, "I'm doing it for myself."

\---

The next days passed in a blur. There were so many things to do, from finding a place to moving back to DC, to wrapping up everything in Rota and trying to figure out what would be expected of him as Director DiNozzo. At least the title had a nice ring to it.

\---

"Amanda, seeing how I'm going to be Director and all, I hereby declare you team leader of the Emergency Response Unit Rota. Congratulations. Here, have a donut."

For his last day, Tony had brought donuts again. It wrapped things up very nicely, he thought. Full circle and all that.

Trish decided to stay with Amanda, but Josh requested a transfer back to the States. Not to Washington DC, but back to the Carolina Field Office in Camp Lejeune. The thought of having Josh close enough to visit was nice, but Tony figured he knew the real reason for the transfer, and it had something to do with a guy named David.

"You better keep in contact," all of them told him. Tony waved their worry aside.

"Amanda's going to have to give me updates and reports on cases, anyway, and Trish can come to the video conferences. And Josh's going to be living right next door, so to speak. I'll keep in contact. Promise."

Thinking back to how hard it had been to keep in contact with his old team, how he'd never really done such a thing before, especially not willingly, the promise shouldn't have come as easily as it did.

\---

Abby left a voicemail:

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Tony! I heard the news! That's so awesome! So you're going to be back! You should have told me! Oh my God, oh my God!"

\---

Back in DC, Gibbs was waiting for him at the airport. Tony did a double-take when he saw the familiar, grey-haired figure standing there, but quickly caught on.

"Director, huh?" Gibbs asked, taking one of Tony's bags and slinging it over his shoulder. "Does that mean I have to call you sir now?"

Tony couldn't help but laugh.

\---

They drove to the hotel where Tony had booked a room for himself. It all felt familiar, he was going to have to find a place to stay all over again. It was the exact same spiel all over again, and yet different.

"You could always stay over at my place," Gibbs offered.

It was tempting, but in the end, Tony shook his head. "Thanks, though."

He didn't want to just fall back into Gibbs' bed, he didn't want to fall back into old (and bad) habits. He wouldn't allow for things to go back the way they had been.

\---

The first days as Director of NCIS, Tony spent between mountains of paperwork and video conferences with Thompson and the directors of the various other law enforcement agencies. A lot of it was politics and even more of it felt like schmoosing, but Tony still had the impression that what he did was important.

\---

Tony leaned against the railing, looking over the bullpen where all the agents were sitting on their desks, working or chatting. He could see Gibbs and his team grabbing their gear and leaving. There was no twist of regret or jealousy, only a hint of worry. He felt responsible for them, for every single agent.

It was more responsibility than he'd ever thought he'd willingly take on, but then again, he wasn't the same man he'd started out as. And it felt right.

He'd call Amanda in a minute to ask her for an update on the situation in Rota, and then he had a meeting with Thompson to discuss the Pena-case. In the evening, he'd have dinner with Gibbs.

Everything was new and different, changes coming at him from all sides. That was okay, though. Tony hadn't felt this settled in his own skin in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks to donutsweeper and manaie for their fantastic beta-work!  
> And another huge thanks to luthien82 for providing endless squee, holding my hand, motivating me and, last but not least, creating gorgeous art for this 'verse!


End file.
